


Sunshine on the Horizon

by otaku72fandom



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adorable, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Multi, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12646575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otaku72fandom/pseuds/otaku72fandom
Summary: Aurora, more commonly known as Rory, had everything taken from her when the outbreak started when she was only 11, and countless wrong turns leave her cowering in a closet, surrounded by walkers. She accepts death when she's saved by a certain man with a crossbow and a bad attitude. When Rory is brought back to camp, Daryl begins to feel fiercely protective of the little girl. But why should he? Rory's not even his real daughter.***"Who's Sofia?""Sofia's the reason you can't leave my sight.""I still don't understand.""Understand that I won't let anything happen to you, ever."





	1. Discovery

How she got into the house was certainly a story. A story full of twists and turns and death and blood, it was a story of watching people die and drown and being ripped to shreds. But the only thing that crossed through the girl’s mind now was how pretty the sunlight looked leaking through the space between the boards over the window. Every shadow seemed to dance across the dusty floor and perform for the small child. Her jade eyes were wide with fear and her iris’ shook as she stared intently downward. She was here now, and that’s what mattered. The little girl was closed into a corner of a suburban home with wood over its windows and door. Outside were dozens of other houses like it, but in the streets, there were things moving about. Their flesh was rotting and their eyes were bulging. Their skin was peeling away and some were missing arms or legs or had their innards dangling behind them as they walked, but none of them seemed to care. They only cared about one thing, getting fed, and the only food for miles was the little blonde girl cowering in a closet.

  
She had recently woken from restless slumber and the sun and shadows told her it was about 9 o’clock in the morning. Quietly, she pulled out her small purple backpack and unzipped one of the pouches. Inside there was a small planner and a pencil. The planner was light pink with flowers and grass on it, and a bumblebee smiled brightly in the corner. The pencil had been repeatedly sharpened with a knife and the graphite was jagged and the eraser was worn away. The girl opened the planner and put a tiny slash in the calendar on the first page, crossing off October 17th, 2012. She looked back at the calendar, she could tell exactly when the outbreak started because it was when her hand started shaking when she crossed things off. July 28th, 2012 was the worst day, because it was the first. It was the day when she and her parents sat huddled around the television and watched for the latest developments about the outbreak.  
Her father told her that would be contained, that it was just a tiny mistake being blown out of proportion. But it wasn’t contained, and before long the girl and her parents packed up their car and their 11-year-old daughter and left their home in Illinois and tried to make it to Atlanta, Georgia, where they were told there was a safe zone run by the military. But shortly after they arrived was when the bombs came. Terrible explosions, scattering flesh, blood and building rubble everywhere. The little girl ran away from the destruction as fast as she could and promptly was picked up by a small group of survivors headed to Mexico. However, they were unprepared and unorganized and fell apart soon after. The girl did what she did best, she ran. She ran and ran and ran until she came across the suburbs. She was able to break into a house with the only tool she had, a hammer and hide from the hoard that had followed her in. Now she had nothing to do but wait. She had to wait until something happened; she didn’t know what would happen, only that something would happen. After all, it had been almost 3 days.

  
She could die of starvation once her little supplies ran out or being killed by the infected, but the girl didn’t think either of those options sounded very nice. It was times like this when the small girl wished for a gun so she could simply end her misery with one quick clean motion, and she didn’t think she had the guts to end her life with the hammer. Her hazed thoughts were interrupted by a sound outside. She put the calendar and pencil back in her bag and stood up to peek between the boards that let her see outside.

A car! It was a car! And something in front of the car let out the guttural sound of a motorcycle. Standing on her tiptoes, the girl got a better look at the two vehicles. There was a single man on the motorcycle, and he was in the front, scanning his surroundings, looking for something. Behind him was a light green car that the girl thought must have two or three people in it. The man on the motorcycle held up a hand as he slowed and the car came to a stop. He got off the bike and took the crossbow off of his back. His steps were cautious and quiet, and he spun around, looking for infected in every direction.

  
The doors of the car opened and two people got out. The first was wearing what looked to be a tan sheriff’s uniform and the other was wearing a worn red baseball cap.  
“Daryl,” the sheriff said to the man with the crossbow, “we clear?”

  
“Looks like it,” Daryl said, lowering his weapon and turning to face the other two.

  
“But you’re not,” the girl whispered, “you’re not safe here.” She didn’t want anyone to get hurt, she didn’t want to see any more violence. If these people couldn’t handle themselves she didn’t want them to die to try to rescue her. So she was going to stay quiet and die without hurting anyone. Suddenly, the one with the baseball cap pointed and cried out.

  
“Walkers, walkers, walkers!” the girl gasped to see seven infected, or ‘walkers’ as this group had called them slowly advancing. The girl stepped away from the window with her hand over her mouth and sunk to the floor. She didn’t need to see any more death. But there were no screams of pain and agony. There weren’t even any gunshots. She cautiously stood up again to see the three men standing around the unmoving bodies of the walkers. They were capable then, very capable. Maybe they could even get her out of this death trap. The small girl made a decision. She pushed the barricade farther against the door, ran to the window, stuck her hand through the boards, and screamed.

  
“Help!” she wailed, the walkers began to pound against the door because of the noise and she flinched as the barricade moved, “help me!” instantly the group looked in her direction, she kept shouting, “Please! Please come get me! I’m trapped!” she paused to look out the window to see the sheriff and the baseball cap men running towards her, but the one with the crossbow hesitated.

  
“Daryl!” the sheriff shouted, “What are you doing?”

  
“What if it’s a setup?” he nodded towards the house, “‘Could be trying to lure us inside.”

  
“It could also be a little girl in trouble, this is not a discussion, come on!” the baseball cap yelled.

  
“Please hurry!” she yelled again and this time the survivors sprinted towards the door of the house and she heard the splintering of wood, “I’m upstairs! I can’t hold out much longer!”

  
Now she heard gunshots, they echoed off of the walls of the house, and they slowly got closer to her. She kept yelling, and the walkers kept pushing against the door. It was suddenly busted off of the hinges and the walkers entered her small shelter. Their flesh was rotting and their smell invaded the girl’s nostrils, she screamed at them and swung her hammer wildly, but it only seemed to encourage their pursuit. She hit on in the head and it fell to the floor, brains oozing out across the carpet. Suddenly, one of them grabbed her by the throat and held her down. Its eye was hanging on by a thread and its clothes were shredded, showing off its mangled skin. The little girl screamed and fought against the monster when there was a loud thunk and she found herself staring at the bloody tip of an arrow.

  
The walker fell on top of her and she screamed and scrambled away, pressing her back up against the wall, breathing heavily. She looked up to see the man with the crossbow lowering his weapon and studying her skeptically. Before she could say anything the sheriff pushed past him and knelt down to her level. He quickly checked her over for bites before putting a hand on her shoulder.  
“Are you alright?” she nodded shakily, “We don’t want to hurt you. I’m Rick, and this is Glenn,” he pointed to the one in the baseball cap, “and Daryl,” Daryl didn’t seem like he cared that much, he was busy retrieving his arrow from the unmoving walker, “can you tell us your name?”

  
The little girl swallowed and spoke, her voice was hoarse. “Aurora, but everyone calls me Rory.”


	2. The Hayloft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory settles into Hershel's Farm and meets the gang, but something goes wrong when she hears something going on the barn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is basically just to clear up the timeline. So Rory comes in just before the start of S2 ep11 Judge, Jury, Executioner, and time will be a little stretched between then and the end of S2, also I'm planning to have this story cover the winter months that were skipped over in the show to get extra development there as well as some freedom with my writing.

“You all alone out here?” Rick asked and Rory nodded silently. Rick looked up at the ceiling in disbelief, then back down at the shaking girl, “How long you been trapped in here?” 

“Today’s the third day.” 

“You been here three days?” Daryl suddenly spoke up from the back of the room, strapping his weapon across his back. 

Rory nodded again, not looking away from Daryl, “Thank you for saving me, sir.” 

“I’ll be out by the bike.” Daryl went quiet and mumbled something under his breath, “Damn scouting mission turns into another mouth to feed. Farm’s gonna be hell pretty soon.” 

Rory watched him go with concern in her eyes, “What’s wrong with him?” 

“That’s just how he is sometimes,” Rick said, trying to comfort her, “How about you come back to camp with us? It’s safe there, we’ve got food, water, shelter; I’ve got a son who’s about your age.” Rory couldn’t help the wave of joy and relief that washed over her, she was glad she cried out.

The Asian one named Glen picked up her backpack and gave it to her when Rory was safely in the back of the car. The purr of the car’s engine reminded Rory of safer times and she smiled as she looked out the window at the passing trees. She listened to Glenn and Rick talk about the place they were going, Hershel’s farm, they called it. Rory liked farms, or she thought she would. She remembered the books her mother and father would read to her about what sound the animals would make and sometimes the pictures would move if you turned the book from side to side. Rory hoped that this farm was a lot like the one from the stories, there were no walkers in the stories. 

The roar of Daryl’s motorcycle in front of them got Rory’s attention and she leaned forward into the front seats. 

“Who’s that?” 

“That’s Daryl,” Rick answered.  _ He must have a son, _ Rory thought,  _ or at least experience with kids, he didn’t even point out that he’d already told me _ . 

Rory hummed in understanding, “Why’s he like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“She means like Daryl,” Glenn said from the passenger seat. He turned around to look at Rory, “Daryl can be kind of strange sometimes, he doesn’t really like new people all that much. Don’t take it personally if he doesn’t warm up to you right away.” 

She shook her head, “I won’t.” 

***

Within the next 10 minutes, they’d arrived at Hershel’s Farm, and Rory couldn’t be happier. The rolling hills and grassy green fields made it seem like something from a fairy tale. There were trees bent over patches of shade, and Rory spotted a camp with various tents and a firepit next to the quaint white farmhouse. She suddenly felt fear creeping up her spine. What if these people didn’t like her? What if they threw her out? She couldn’t be alone out there again, she just couldn’t. The car door next to her swung open suddenly and Rory jumped. Daryl was staring at her, eyebrow raised in skepticism. 

“You coming?” This was the first time Rory had seen Daryl still in one place for so long and she took the opportunity to study him. 

His hair was a dark auburn with greying flecks in it and his beard was scruffy and untrimmed. His hands that rested on either side of the car door were rough and calloused, with dirt caked under the nails. Overall, his appearance was worse for wear. Everything was dirty or dusty, but one couldn’t expect more in the apocalypse, Rory had no doubt she looked the same. That’s when Rory saw them, Daryl’s eyes. They were a clear, bright, crystal blue. They seemed untouched by pain and sadness, they were only pure and good color. Daryl blinked at her, hiding his eyes for a moment. “What’re you looking at?” 

“Nothing,” Rory mumbled as she got out of the car with her backpack and followed Daryl’s lead to the main part of camp. The smoke filled Rory’s lungs for a moment and she coughed, looking around the camp. There were people tending to the fire. A woman with short grey hair was washing clothes over a basin and a blonde one sat on top of an RV with a gun next to an older man with a full white beard. 

“Lori,” Daryl said, speaking to one of the women tending the fire. Lori looked up, revealing her dark brown hair and square jaw. 

Lori studied Rory carefully, not stopping her tasks, “Who’d you pick up out there, Daryl?” 

“ _ I  _ didn’t pick up anyone. This little one’s Rick’s doing. I figured she should be your responsibility for a while, Carl needs a new friend after…” Daryl trailed off, not speaking what Rory assumed to be someone’s name. The boy next to Lori looked up. He was wearing a sheriff’s hat that was a little too big for him, Rory could only assume that this was Rick’s son, Carl. Daryl didn’t finish his sentence, instead, he kicked his boot in the dirt and walked off, leaving Rory alone with Lori and Carl. Tentatively, the little girl sat down on a log, the fire separating them. She stared into the flames and waited. 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Lori said, putting down her work to look at the child. 

“Aurora,” Rory said. 

“That’s a nice name, Aurora,” Lori continued. Rory mumbled under her breath that she preferred Rory but Lori didn’t hear her. Evidently, Carl did though, as he introduced her as Rory to everyone she met. Rory now knew the Greenes, the people who lived in the quaint white farmhouse and the owners of the land, Hershel, Maggie, Beth, Patricia, and Jimmy. Hershel seemed a little displeased at the sight of another newcomer to his farm, but he didn’t say anything directly to Rory. She assumed he didn’t want to be the one to kick out a little girl, especially since he had two daughters of his own. 

Carl’s father’s group was camped out by the trees in tents and Rory came to know many of the people she had seen on her first ride in. There was Dale, Andrea and T-Dog, Glenn, whom she already knew, and Carol. Carol was a frail looking woman with short grey hair, and when she saw Rory for the first time it looked as if she might cry. Carl quickly ushered her along away from the woman, but Rory couldn’t help but look back. What had affected her so much? 

That night was one of the best night’s sleep Rory had ever gotten. She slept on the sofa in the Greene’s living room but it was the closest she had had to a bed in months. That plus the days of limited food and water had the little girl exhausted and sleeping for hours into the morning. Rory awoke around lunch and helped out around the camp, doing little jobs here and there like getting more firewood or cleaning up around camp. She was happy and content, already feeling like a more ingrained part of the group. She learned that Maggie and Glenn were in a relationship and that Lori, Carl’s mother, was pregnant. Rory didn’t know how to respond at first when she heard about that one. Any other time a baby would be cause for celebration, but a baby in this world didn’t seem like a very good plan. 

Rory enjoyed her eggs and water and took a walk with Carl afterward. They talked about things before the end. Tiny things, like cable TV or math homework or how sad you got when you missed the bus. As they passed the Greene Family barn, Rory jumped when she heard the screams and moans of pain coming from inside. 

“What’s that?” Rory turned to Carl and he looked grim. 

“That’s Randall.” 

“Who’s Randall?” Rory stared with curiosity at the barn but flinched back when she heard another scream.

“He was with a group that tried to kill my dad, but they abandoned him and dad saved his life. He’s our prisoner now. But he’ll probably be dead by sundown,” her curiosity peaked and Rory took a step towards the barn. Carl grabbed her by the wrist, “What are you doing?” 

“I want to get a closer look. Aren’t you at least a tiny bit curious as to what’s going on in there? Don’t you want to see what the grown-ups get to do.” Carl paused to think for a moment before shaking his head. 

“I don’t want to know, but if you do, be my guest. There’s a hayloft up there where you’ll be able to see what’s going on.” 

Rory quickly thanked him and snuck around the side of the barn until she found the ladder Carl had mentioned. She climbed it and threw herself into the itchy mess that was the Greene’s hayloft. Rory crawled on her hands and knees towards the whimpers. She heard the impact of a punch and leaned over the edge to get a better view. There she saw Randall, bloodied and broken on the floor. He was young, almost 20 or so, and was cowering against the person torturing him. She looked down and saw the leather vest with the two faded angel wings on it. Daryl. 

He placed a hearty kick to Randall's stomach and the boy fell to the floor, choking and crying. Daryl didn’t stop, he lay blow after blow onto the boy. More and more blood covered his face. Rory wanted to turn away out of fear, but somehow she was transfixed. 

“I told you-” Randall sputtered. 

“You ain’t told me shit!” Daryl yelled, hitting Randall across the face again. 

“I barely know those guys,” Randall began to speak of his previous group, “I met them on the road.”

“How many in your group?” Randall didn’t answer at first, only lolled his head back and forth in pain. Daryl tilted his head back and forth in consideration before pulling out a knife from his belt. Randall began to plead but Daryl was unphased. Rory was confused, how could Daryl, how could the owner of such clear eyes have such clouded judgment? Daryl lunged forward and impaled the knife next to Randall’s leg. He panicked. 

“30!” he yelled, “30 guys!” 

“Where?” Daryl’s voice was barely above a growl as he snarled at his prey. Silence. Daryl ripped off a bandage on Randall’s leg, revealing a nasty wound leaking puss.

“I don’t know, I swear! We were never in any place more than a night.”

“Scouting?” Daryl brushed the knife against the wound, “Planning on staying local?”

“I don’t know! They left me behind!” Randall suddenly made eye contact with Rory and she held a silent finger to her lips.

Daryl started whispering in a hushed voice. Rory couldn’t hear the exact words but they made Randall squirm. Rory knew what the world could do to people, she’d seen transformations, she’d seen minds lost in her own group. Even her parents changed when the outbreak began. As she stared down into the barn below, she wondered what Daryl would have been like before the infection. Would he still have tortured a college kid with a blade? Rory didn’t want to believe so. Daryl seemed like the kind to stand up for what was right, even if it meant a bloody nose in the end. But that’s not who he was now. Now he was listening to Randall speak, seems like the boy had cracked. She didn’t understand completely what Randall was talking about, something about girls and their father having to watch, but Daryl’s blue eyes filled with a silent rage as he slowly turned to face the prisoner. 

“You have to believe me, man. I’m not like those guys, I-” Randall didn’t get to finish as Daryl kicked him hard in his injured leg. The scream was followed by more attacks from Daryl and Rory gripped the hay tighter around her fingers. When one of Daryl’s kicks made the sound of a bone breaking, Rory gasped inward and covered her hand with her mouth. It was too late, Daryl stopped and whirled around to look up at the hayloft. He saw nothing but the barn roof, but he didn’t believe his sight. He had heard something. Randall let out another soft cry but Daryl held up a hand and silenced him. 

He began pacing underneath the hayloft, looking at it from every angle. Rory lay flat on her back above, holding her breath, trying not to move. She heard Daryl’s footsteps as he turned to face Randall again, “You see anything?” Randall was quiet, “I said,” Daryl was yelling now, “did you see anything?” 

“A girl,” Randall stammered, “there was a little girl up there!” 

“Girl?” Daryl’s voice was confused for a moment before he groaned in annoyance, “I can’t believe this.” The walls and rafters of the barn shook as Daryl quickly scaled up the side and landed in the hayloft, right next to Rory, “You are in some serious trouble, you hear me?”


	3. The Hunt

“Hey,” Rory protested, pulling against Daryl’s iron grip, “let go of me!” Daryl said nothing, he only continued to drag her towards the small group of tents. 

“What happened?” Andrea hopped down from on top of the RV. 

Daryl growled, “This little devil here was spying on me trying to get information out of our friend.” 

Lori gasped and Carol put her hand over her mouth in shock. Rory made eye contact with Carl.

“I told you it was a bad idea,” he whispered. Suddenly, another member of the group strolled in. He dropped his supply bag haphazardly on the ground and didn’t even notice Rory for a few seconds. His hair was shaved close to his head and he wore a gold necklace with the number ‘22’ on it. 

“Who’s this?” he said, although Rory thought it seemed like he didn’t really care. 

“Aurora, Shane,” Lori explained over the rounds of Rory trying to break free. 

Shane glanced over at Daryl and Rory and squinted at her, “What, we got a replacement for Sofia now?” Everyone in the group went quiet and Daryl let go of Rory’s wrist. She fell forward and she stumbled, turning to glare at him, but stopped at his vacant expression. 

“She was just a girl in trouble,” Rick said, approaching the group from behind, “It was the least we could do to welcome her in.” 

Shane glared back at Rick, “Can I speak with you for a moment, privately?” his voice was stern and harsh. He and Rick seemed to be fighting without using actual words. Reluctantly, Rick followed Shane away from the group and into a cluster of nearby trees. A hush fell over the group. 

“When I said you were in trouble I meant it,” Daryl said. 

Rory looked up at him, scowling, “What’s my punishment? Gonna feed me to the walkers?” Daryl didn’t say anything to her, only swallowed roughly and stormed off back towards the barn. Rory sat back down by the fire in a huff. Slowly, Carol sat down next to her and they both looked into the embers. 

“You were snooping?” 

“Are you going to come down on me too?” 

Carol managed a tiny laugh and shook her head, “No, I’ll admit, I’m a bit curious as to what goes on in there sometimes. But I think I’d make more noise if I snuck up into the hayloft, don’t you?” 

Rory smiled faintly, “I’m just good at being sneaky.” 

“The sneakiest,” Carol agreed and suddenly Rory didn’t feel so alone in the camp. She felt like she was beginning to belong. 

She felt wave after wave of calm and relaxation wash over her. Here she was safe, nothing could get into the farm and even if a walker did manage to wander in, these people were capable and they would kill it before it even got close to Rory. She turned her attention to Rick and the man Lori had called Shane. They were having a heated discussion just beyond the treeline. Rory continued to watch them, curiosity getting the best of her in the end. She stood up and began to walk away from the fire when Carol stopped her. 

“Where’re you going?”

“I’m going to be sneaky.” 

“Well, just don’t wander too far.” 

“I won’t,” this seemed to calm Carol’s nervousness a bit and Rory began to wonder. Why did it seem like everyone here had taken to her so quickly? It was as if Rory had filled a hole in the group, by just being in the right place at the right time. 

She slunk through the small cluster of trees so she was able to overhear Shane and Rick’s conversation. 

“-telling you it’s a bad idea.”    
“Shane, listen to me. I am not going to leave a little girl out there to fend for herself. She’ll die,” scratch that, maybe not everyone in the group was supportive of taking Rory in. 

“Let her die, we stick together. We’re not in a position right now to be taking in new people left and right.” 

“I don’t think you heard me the first time,” Rick’s voice was stern, “but if you want to drive that little girl out into the woods and leave her for the walkers, watch the life drain from her eyes as the flesh is torn off her bones. Be my guest.” 

“Alright,” Shane quickly checked his surroundings to make sure no one was watching him, his eyes passing easily over Rory’s hidden form, before hitting Rick in the head with the tail end of his gun. Rick fell to the ground, unconscious, and Shane made a beeline for the camp. 

Rory scrambled out of the bushes and made it back to her spot on the log. Carl looked away from the fire and to Rory, “Was it really worth it to get into the barn?” 

Rory nodded enthusiastically, trying to slow her breathing, “It was… interesting, but as long as you have a strong stomach and want to know what the adults are up to, I’d say it’s worth it,” Carl seemed to think about this. His face told Rory he had come to a final decision just as Shane rounded the corner. 

“Hey,” he knelt down in front of Rory. His voice was calm, but Rory knew better and she recoiled in fear, “you’re Aurora right? I’m Shane, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. How about I give you a special guided tour around the farm? We can even take the car so you can rest. How’s that sound?” 

“That sounds lovely,” Carol smiled at Rory, but the small girl was still terrified. She knew what would happen if she got in the car. Shane would drive her out into the middle of nowhere and leave her there to die, if not killing her himself. Shane saw her as a threat to the balance of the group, and he was going to do everything he could to eradicate it.  

Rory didn’t know what to say, staring into the face of the man who promised to kill her. She felt helpless and weak. Slowly, she rose off the log and took a tiny step forward but a voice interrupted her movement. 

“I’m afraid she won’t have the time,” Rory turned around to look at her savior, only to be staring up into a face with clear blue eyes. Daryl put his hand on Rory’s shoulder and pulled her behind him, “I came up with a punishment for her little event earlier.” 

Shane laughed casually, rubbing his hand over his shaved head, “I think the tour will be punishment enough.” 

Rory instinctively cowered behind Daryl, avoiding eye contact by staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest. Her breath was shaking, she couldn’t go with Shane, it would mean death. 

“Not your decision, Shane,” Daryl took a threatening step forward and Shane inched back. Daryl seemed all too pleased with himself as he turned around and walked away, “Come on,” he jerked his head to Rory and the little girl scrambled after him. 

“What was that about?” Lori asked Shane, slowly rising from her own place on the log.    
Shane shook his head as the watched the two walk away from the camp, “Nothing, I just don’t feel too sure about her.” 

 

Rory was quiet for a long time as she walked next to Daryl. As the camp grew smaller and smaller Rory figured she might as well make sure that her fate wasn’t still in danger, “So what’s my punishment?” 

“You’re coming hunting with me.” 

“Hunting?” 

“Yup. You got a gun?” Rory shook her head and Daryl reached into his pocket and handed her a small pistol, “This one’s got 12 rounds in the chamber, here’s the safety, you turn the safety off, it’s ready to kill. Don’t fire unless you absolutely have to. Understand me?” Rory nodded again and put the gun back in her own pocket. 

The trees were still around them, and the leaves had begun to change color, signaling the coming of fall. The breeze flowed in between the trees and people, creating a soft whistling that was the closest thing Rory had heard to music since the beginning of the outbreak. Daryl seemed more at home amongst the trees and nature that back at the camp with civilization. He moved slowly and silently, scoping his surroundings carefully. Rory stepped on a branch buried underneath some leaves and it snapped under her weight. Daryl turned with his weapon raised but lowered it at the sight of Rory and the broken stick. 

The small girl trailed behind as best she could, watching her surroundings for anything out of the ordinary. Within a few minutes she heard something to her right and she turned. Shambling through the trees, was a walker. Its hair was long and matted and its clothes hung in tatters off of its mutilated shoulders. 

“Hey,” Rory whispered, and the older man turned around to look. Rory silently pointed to the walker, but it hadn't seen them yet. 

“Come on, let’s just keep moving. No reason to waste ammo,” Daryl turned Rory away from the walker and pressed on, deeper into the woods. 

It turned out that there were several traps set around the outskirts of the farm to catch squirrels and larger animals like raccoons. At first, Rory was against having to carry the animals carrion against her jacket but Daryl reminded her that this was a punishment. So she put up with it as best she could without gagging too much. They tramped through the woods until the sun began to sink low in the sky. Daryl looked up and shielded his eyes with his hand. 

“It’s getting late, we should head back.” 

He turned around and Rory followed him, but she heard a sudden growl from behind a treeline. She froze, and Daryl stopped a few feet ahead of her. There it was again, a guttural moan, but this time from another direction. They appeared from all directions, a hoard of walkers, slowly moving and tripping towards the two. Rory was paralyzed with fear. Daryl took aim and shot an arrow through one of their skulls, it fell to the ground and he quickly reloaded, killing another. 

Rory knew there was a gun in her pocket, she  _ knew _ . But the sight of them so close sent the small girl into paralysis. She felt something cold grab her shoulder and push her to the ground, it snarled in her face and moved to bite her neck. Rory kicked mercilessly at the corpse, but it refused to budge. In vain, she cried out the name of the only person for miles.    
“Daryl!” within seconds, the walker had been pushed off of her and she saw the older man smashing the thing’s brain under the heel of his boot. That had been the last of them and Daryl knelt down by Rory’s side, helping her up. 

“You clean?” 

She nodded shakily, “Yeah, it didn’t manage to get me.” 

“Good,” Daryl helped her up and inspected the meat she was carrying. He scoffed as he saw walker blood spattered all over the cuts on the corpses as well as most of Rory’s clothes. He tore the sash of dead squirrels off her shoulders and threw it to the ground. “Come on,” he pulled his arrows out of the walkers and reloaded his crossbow, “we’re wasting daylight.” 

Rory scrambled after him, “But don’t we need the meat?” 

Daryl shook his head, “There’s plenty of food back at the farm. I just had to get you away from there for a bit while Shane calmed down.” 

“Wait, you knew?” 

“You’re not the only one who’s sneaky, sunshine,” Daryl let a tiny smile pull at the corner of his lips and Rory felt her own face curve up in delight. 

“Thanks, for saving me again today. With the walkers and with Shane.”

“It’d be crazy to let the group kill you just after you got here. There may be a few bad apples among us, but in the end I… we’ll make sure you’re not abandoned, it just wouldn’t be right.” 

“Was Sofia abandoned?” Rory asked, remembering the person Shane had compared her to. 

Daryl went stiff, pressing his lips into a thin line, “Stay quiet until we get back to camp. Don’t want to attract more walkers,” Daryl turned to look at Rory, “and don’t be afraid to use your gun. If I had lost the fight back there we both would have been goners and you know it.”


	4. Blazing in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randall "escapes" imprisonment and a herd of walkers show up on the farm.

“So what are you going to do?” Lori said, pouring out some hot water from over the fire. It had been at least a week since Rory had entered Hershel’s farm and met up with the group. She was getting to know everyone better by the day, and slowly, the farm began to feel like home. There was the occasional person she’d clash with, mostly Andrea or Shane, sometimes even Maggie on occasion, but that was nothing compared to just how much safer Rory felt here than boarded up in a closet, “We’d all feel better if we knew the plan,” Lori continued. 

Rory knew what they were talking about, Randall. He had been stuck in the barn now since before Rory arrived, and his fate was yet to be decided. Although she hadn’t seen Daryl re-enter the barn since the day she had spied on him from above. 

“Is there a plan?” Andrea asked. 

“Are we gonna keep him here?” 

The small girl’s brain kept flashing back to what she had seen in the barn. Randall who was just a kid, being beaten senseless, forced to divulge information, some of which he might have not even known. And now they were discussing his fate like it was no more than a common game. 

“We have no choice, he’s a threat,” Rick said, broadcasting his voice out to the group, “and we have to eliminate that threat.” 

“You’re just going to kill him?” Dale said in shock. Rory raised her head from where it had been resting between her knees. She looked at the older man with a sense of awe and wonder. 

“It’s settled,” Rick ignored Dale’s words, “I’ll do it today.” 

Dale chased after the group’s leader and Rory went back to staring into the blaze. She didn’t have the authority to contribute her input on the situation, not yet, anyway. She was still a newcomer, and too young for her opinion to be taken seriously. Carl sat down next to her and poked the fire with a stick. 

“I’ve never asked, how old are you?” 

Rory thought for a moment before answering, “I’ll be turning 12 this Winter.” 

Carl smiled, “Hey, I turned 12 over the summer!” The two smiled at one another, glad to have someone with at least a similar experience to their own with being the kid, and never being taken seriously.

“I’m gonna do it,” he said quietly, so his mother couldn’t hear. 

“Do what?” 

“Go into the barn, see what’s happening with Randall. He’s going to be dead soon so might as well do it now.” 

“You said he would be dead over a week ago,” Rory pointed out and Carl gave her a look, which Rory laughed at, “But hey, I’m not the boss of you so go ahead and do what you want.” 

Carl quickly checked around to make sure no one was paying too much attention to him before his slipped away unnoticed towards the Greene’s barn. Rory spent her afternoon rummaging around the Greene’s garage, where she found an old cream colored hammock. She convinced Maggie to help her set it up between two trees, and spent the rest of her morning resting sleepily in the grove while the adults bickered about what to do. Her eyelids felt heavy, and before she knew it Rory had drifted off to sleep in the early afternoon sun. 

The sound of a screaming awoke Rory from her peaceful slumber, she looked around frantically, it was dark and the moon was setting. She looked around the fire and saw people standing up to run towards the sound. Lori grabbed Carl by the shoulder and told him to go inside the house, but no one was watching Rory. She took off running after Rick. Lori saw her as she exited the campground, 

“Rory!” she called, but Rory ignored her, “Rory, get back here!” 

She kept running, she felt the gun in her pocket press against her leg and she took it out and turned off the safety. She heard Andrea cry out for Dale, who was the one screaming. Rick approached a gate and opened it, letting the rest of the group bolt through. Rory had a head start and much more energy than the rest of the group, however, so she passed by Andrea, then T-Dog, then she fell into step with Daryl. The man was carrying a shotgun now instead of his usual crossbow, he looked at Rory in shock. 

“What’re you doing out here?” 

“Seeing what’s happening,” Daryl spotted his gun in Rory’s hand and looked worried before they both arrived at Dale’s body. He was laying on his back by a cow who had its innards spread across the field. There was a walker on top of him, hissing and snapping. Dale screamed out in pain as it dug its claws into his stomach. Daryl lunged for the thing and tackled it to the ground before stabbing it through the skull. Rory knelt down beside Dale and gasped as she saw his organs begin to fall from his stomach and onto the dirt through the giant gaping hole in his abdomen. Rory took the man’s hand in her own and held it, looking into his eyes. “It’s alright, you’re going to be okay. You just have to hold on for a little bit longer. Help!” she called as the rest of the group came to a halt in front of the body. 

Rick stumbled and fell in front of Dale’s body. His own words now joining in with Rory’s own. She saw the pure and utter fear in Dale’s eyes as he looked at Rick. Rory glanced up at Daryl with the same amount of terror and she saw the man’s face, utterly blank. Everyone’s yelling faded into one giant sound and Rory dropped Dale’s hand as she was suddenly being pulled away from the scene. At first, she thought it was a walker, so she screamed and struggled and thrashed against the arms holding her. Rory managed to knock the thing onto its back and she was about to attack further but a voice made her stop. 

“You shouldn’t have to see this, so sit still,” Daryl’s arms were wrapped around her as Rory struggled and screamed. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched people screaming for Hershel, comforting Dale, or just rubbing their faces in disbelief. They streamed down her cheeks as she reached out. 

“No, no! I want to help!” 

“What can you do?” Daryl whispered, looking grimly down at the grass in the dark. Rory went limp but did nothing to stop the tears streaming down her face. She finally gave in and wrapped herself up in a ball and let herself shake with sobs. She felt Daryl’s arms tighten their grip around her as Rick screamed out into the night. They couldn’t do anything to stop it. They couldn’t save Dale. 

“He’s suffering,” Andrea’s voice was soft, “Do something!” and then, Daryl was gone. Rory felt only the wetness of the dew on the grass and the cold spots where Daryl’s arms had been. Rory watched him as he walked calmly up to Rick and took his gun, which had been pointing at Dale. Daryl knelt down and pressed the barrel against Dale’s forehead. 

“Sorry, brother,” Daryl whispered before he pulled the trigger and a gunshot rang out across the empty pasture.

* * *

It took until the morning rays leaked over the horizons to properly bury Dale’s body. The group stood around the fresh grave site, all sullen and silent. Carl seemed more torn up than Rory had expected so she put her arm around his shoulders and let him cry into her shoulder while she stared at the overturned dirt. Rick stepped up and cleared his throat. 

“Dale could… he could get under your skin. He sure got under mine, because he wasn’t afraid to say exactly what he thought, how he felt. That kind of honesty is rare and brave. Whenever I’d make a decision, I’d look at Dale. He’d be looking back at me with that look he had. We’ve all seen it one time or another. I couldn’t always read him, but he could read us. He saw people for who they were. He knew things about us, the truth. Who we really are, in the end, he was talking about losing our humanity. He said this group was broken. The best way to honor him is to unbreak it. To set aside our differences and pull together, stop feeling sorry for ourselves, and take control of our lives. Our safety… our future. We’re not broken. We’re gonna prove him wrong. From now on, we’re gonna do it his way. That is how we honor Dale.”

After no weak points were found in the fence, it was decided that everyone would sleep at the Greene’s home that night, just to be safe. Rory had already gathered her things and brought them inside. She was going to be sleeping in Beth’s room. Rory was a bit disappointed, not that she and Beth didn’t get along, only that she wished she was rooming with someone like Carl instead. But he would be sleeping with his parents. Rory dropped her bag in the corner and spread the sheets out across her makeshift bed on the floor. 

“Hey,” Beth smiled at her and Rory managed one in return. 

“Hey.” 

They were both quiet for a while, watching the adults drive the trucks around and begin moving things inside. They talked and bickered, and Shane looked like he was getting a bit riled up. Rory had avoided Shane ever since the day she had heard him and Rick talking about her. She hadn’t spoken to him or gone anywhere near him, she only did her best to stay away and to keep herself safe. For a few days she had considered running, but she decided that there were fewer ways for her to die here than out there in the woods by herself. 

“What do you normally do when they’re all just out there talking like this?” Rory asked, rummaging through her bag. 

“I like to read,” Beth smiled, “or do tiny chores around the house. Whatever I can to help out,” at the mention of reading, Rory perked up. 

“What kinds of books do you have?” 

Beth got up off of the bed, “Come on, I’ll show you,” Rory followed her to a small closet in the corner of the room. When Beth opened it, inside it was filled wall to ceiling with books. Rory felt a smile creeping to her lips. She’d always loved reading, but since the outbreak started books were hard to come by. 

“Do you mind if I…” 

Beth shook her head and laughed a little, “No, go ahead. I couldn’t read all of them if I tried,” Rory stepped into the closet and scanned over books, looking carefully at each spine. She spotted one and pulled it out of the shelf. She turned it to show to Beth, “My Side of the Mountain,” she laughed a bit, “funny how useful it might be now.” 

Rory flipped through its pages and looked at the various diagrams on wilderness survival, but before she could say anything, someone cleared their throat through the open window. 

“You girls need to do your part too, you know,” Hershel said, looking at Rory and his youngest daughter. 

“Yes, daddy,” Beth walked to the door, “Come on,” she motioned for Rory to follow her. The girl put the book in her purple backpack before walking out after Beth. 

Rory worked on moving supplies from the camp in the grove of trees into Hershel’s living room. It was hard work and she perspired under the hot sun. Rory scowled at Daryl when he snickered at her for struggling to pick up the gigantic cast iron pot the group used for cooking. 

“If you think it’s so easy then come over here and do it yourself.” Daryl raised an eyebrow at the girl before walking over and picking up the pot with one hand, switching his already heavy load to his other arm. 

“Gonna have to toughen up before you can do things like that,” Rory couldn’t help but grind her teeth as Daryl walked away. She wasn’t weak; she’d show him. 

The rest of the afternoon, Rory pitted herself in a one-sided competition against Daryl to see who could bring the most gear inside the quickest. Rory lost every time, but each time it only made her more determined to win the next one. Soon the sun began to sink low into the sky again. Rory had given up trying to beat Daryl was now sitting in the grass, beginning to read her book. Suddenly, Shane came busting out of the treeline, dazed, his face bloody. He shouted Rick’s name and everyone in the group ran to him. 

“What happened?” Lori called.

“He’s armed! He’s got my gun!”

“Are you okay?” Carl asked, stepping closer. Rory took a step back, however, to distance herself from Shane. It wasn’t uncommon that Rory didn’t instantly believe everything Shane was saying. 

“I’m fine, little bastard just snuck up on me, clocked me in the face is all.”

Rick quickly rounded up a search party made up of Glenn, Daryl, Shane, and himself to go hunt through the woods for Randall. Everyone else was supposed to stay inside, away from the danger that lurked in the woods until he was caught. Carol was quick to put her hand on Rory’s shoulder, as she now was familiar with how quickly the little girl could run off. Rory was sat down on the couch in between T-Dog and Carol and told to reach her book until everything blew over. The minutes wore on and it got darker and darker outside. The sound of crickets lulled Rory into a false sense of security, and before she knew it she was enveloped in the story of a teenage boy surviving on his own in the mountains and didn’t think twice about what was going on beyond the boarded windows.

The sound of a gunshot made Rory drop her book and everyone in the house jumped. 

“What was that?” T-Dog peered through a crack in the boards. 

“Did they get him?” Carol asked, standing cautiously. In that moment, Lori walked down the stairs, panic drawn across her face. 

“That’s it, I’m going after them,” Andrea stood up. 

“Don’t,” Lori protested, “they could be anywhere. And if Randall comes back we need you here.” 

The door creaked open and Rory’s eyes flared up. Daryl and Glenn walked through the door, both unscathed. Daryl looked around the room, puzzled.    
“Rick and Shane ain’t back?” 

Rory picked up her book from the floor, “No, there was a gunshot though. Maybe they found Randall.” 

Glenn shook his head, “Couldn’t have been. Daryl and I found him, he was a walker.” 

“Did you find the one that bit him?” Hershel interjected. 

“No, strange thing was, he wasn’t bit,” Daryl strapped his crossbow back across his shoulders, “his neck was broke though. What was strange about it was Shane and Randall’s tracks, they were right on top of each other. And Shane ain’t no tracker, so he didn’t come up behind him. They were together.” 

Lori got up from her place and approached Daryl, “Would you please, get back out there and find Rick and Shane and find out what the hell is going on.” Daryl gave a curt nod before heading back out the door, but he barely got two steps. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed and Rory zipped up her backpack and stood on the porch next to him. There was a hoard of walker slowly approaching the farm. There were at least if not one, two hundred of them, slowly limping and advancing. It was the biggest group of them Rory had ever seen. She had a sharp intake of breath and instinctively stepped behind Daryl.

“Patricia, kill the lights,” Hershel whispered back into the house, “I’ll get the guns.”

“Maybe they’re just passing through?” Glenn suggested, “Like the herd on the highway. Should we just go inside?”

“A herd this size could tear the house down,” Daryl said. Rory could see her breath coming out in short puffs between her lips and she rubbed her hands together for warmth. Winter was approaching, and faster than she knew. 

Lori’s voice made her jump, “Carl’s gone,” she said, “he was supposed to be upstairs but he’s not. I’m not leaving without my boy.” 

“We’re not,” Carol assured her, rubbing her shoulder, “I’m sure he’s just hiding somewhere. Let’s go find him,” Carol and Lori ran back inside the house. 

Daryl looked down at Rory, “You should go back inside too,” Rory stubbornly shook her head, “Why not?” 

“I feel safer here,” she whispered. 

“Load up into the cars,” Hershel said, walking back out with arms full of weapons, “We’ll stop as many of them as we can before they can get to us.” 

The group nodded and Rory was shoved back into the house and the door slammed behind her. Lori was in hysterics and Carol was her best to comfort her. Rory heard the sounds of car engines starting up and the sound of a motorcycle. She ran to the window and looked out. The herd was closer now, she could see the explosion of rotting flesh each time they were struck with a bullet and fell to the ground, now truly dead. Someone had set the barn ablaze and the fire was quickly spreading, creating a gigantic beacon of light that cast jagged shadows across the cars making quick turns to double back and kill more walkers. 

“We’re going to have to leave,” Rory muttered under her breath before running to Beth’s room. There she gathered up as many of her things as she could, and even a few more books from Beth’s closet. She zipped up the purple backpack and saw the gun Daryl had given her sitting on the floor by her pillow. Rory snatched it up and ran back into the living room. Beth and Patricia were looking through the windows at the carnage, and Lori was yelling again. She dashed outside and soon Rory heard Carl’s name being shouted over and over again. Beth took Rory’s arm and began to pull her outside. 

“Come on, we have to leave now,” Rory nodded silently, although her features were wracked with fear. Rory was pulled out onto the front porch and down the steps, but Beth suddenly stopped and screamed. Rory turned around and saw that there was a walker on Patricia. It tore out her neck and blood splattered everywhere. Beth released Rory’s hand, and in a panic, the girl ran. She sprinted away from Beth, Lori, and Carol, but in doing so she landed herself in the middle of the chaos. She heard her name being shouted and then Andrea yelling back that’s she’d handle it, but Rory kept running. She dodged the rotting hands that grabbed at her left and right, and she kicked viciously at a walker that had managed to grab her ankle. The fire in the barn had grown to envelop the whole thing and now it burned brightly in the darkness. 

She saw cars pulling away, and Rory began to panic, desperately looking for a way out. Her eyes desperately searched until she saw the silhouette of the motorcycle against the flames. The sound of gunshots echoed in Rory’s ears. Daryl stopped shooting for a moment and reached into his pocket to find more ammo. 

“Come on, come on…” he muttered. Rory was so close to him she could see the profile of his face and the three walkers creeping up behind him. She went to call out, but her voice was non-existent. Suddenly, she felt the cold twinge of metal in her hand. Rory looked down at her gun. Without thinking twice, she clicked the safety off and shot the walkers one by one. Each falling to the ground. Daryl turned at the sounds of the shots and his eyes widened when he saw Rory. The gun was still raised, and her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Daryl got off his bike and ran the short distance between them. He reached out and took the gun from her trembling hands before hugging her. A quick  _ thank you _ left his lips but Rory didn’t even hear it. The action was over shortly however as the growl of another walker brought Daryl back to his senses. He shot the thing through the brain before grabbing Rory’s hand and pulling her back to the bike. Rory was snapped back to reality as she quickly processed what was going on around her. She had used a gun and killed three walkers. 

“Let’s go!” Daryl yelled, revving the motorcycle’s engine, “We gotta go, now!” Rory blinked and quickly got on the back of Daryl’s motorcycle, wrapping her arms around his waist as he drove down the dirt road and away from the farm, away from the blazing fire, and away from the walkers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're off! I'd like to thank everyone who's left kudos and comments so far. I really appreciate them! So from here on out, I'm going to cover the winter months that were skipped over in the show. This gives me as much freedom as I need to develop Daryl and Rory's father-daughter relationship before the start of season 3, as well as develop Rory's character a bit more. Thanks for reading and leave a comment if you enjoyed, more to come soon!


	5. Almost there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, super short chapter but I just needed to leave things off when season 2 ended. The next chapters will be much longer trust me. Thanks for reading!

The wind whipped through Rory’s dirty blonde hair and she hid her forehead in the rough leather of Daryl’s jacket. The engine was loud in her ears but she could still hear the walkers as they passed, and their desperate attempts to chase after the vehicle. One of them reached out to grab her and she felt its horrid fingers fly across her arm before Daryl revved the engine and sped away.  
“You don’t have to hold on so tight,” he said over the wind.  
“But it’s cold,” Rory replied. It was only half true. Yes, it was freezing and Daryl was warm, but he also made Rory feel unbelievably safe.  
“I guess it is,” Daryl didn’t bring it up for the rest of the ride. Rory knew she should be tired, after all the energy she just exerted. Her body was sore and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and rest, but her mind was alert. She remembered every tiny detail of what happened at the farm. She remembered how Patricia’s neck was torn out by a walker’s teeth. She could still smell their rotting flesh in her nose and it made her eyes well up with tears. Before Rory knew it they were slowly making their way down her face. She shook with a sob against Daryl’s jacket. She felt the man tense up, then, after they had passed the last few stray walkers, Daryl let the motorcycle roll to a stop. He turned off the engine and turned around to look at Rory. The little girl hid her face in her hands and tried to muffle the sounds of her sobs. Daryl looked at her in the dark, unsure what to do. Cautiously, he reached forward and put a hand on her shoulder.   
“You alright?”   
Rory sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve, “I’m not bit if that’s what you mean.”  
“Not exactly, I don’t mean if you got bit or not. I mean if you feel alright.”   
Rory blinked her eyes to try and stop any more tears from escaping before she looked up into Daryl’s face. He looked concerned for her, and Rory felt a tiny bit of calmness enter her as her breathing slowed. A stick snapped in the woods and Rory jumped and screamed, wrapping her arms around Daryl and hiding her face in his chest. Tentatively, Daryl lay his arms over Rory and pulled her in closer, “Don’t worry, it ain’t a walker.”   
“How do you know?”   
“Because I know what a rabbit on a twig sounds like,” in that moment, a small white rabbit hopped out from the trees and stood up on its hind legs. It twitched its nose as Rory and Daryl, and Daryl reached for his crossbow.   
“Wait,” Rory said, “leave it be. Just this once.”   
Daryl looked at Rory and the rabbit and reluctantly put his weapon away. Rory smiled before she went back to hugging Daryl. A strange wave of emotion washed over him. He didn’t want anything to happen to the small child, and it felt like his responsibility to keep her safe, “One day it will be a walker, but for now, I’ve got you and everything’s going to be alright.”

The motorcycle reached the highway as the sun was well into the sky, Rory was having a hard time not falling asleep on Daryl’s shoulder but she felt more awake when she saw the giant pile up of cars on the highway. Some were flipped over and others had rotting corpses inside, but Rory was focused on the three men standing in the middle of them. Rick, Hershel, and Carl all watched as the bike approached. Rory rose up on her knees and waved at them. Carl waved back, half smiling. Behind the bike was the light green car with Glenn and Maggie inside, and behind that was the blue pickup truck. As the vehicles pulled to a stop, people got out and ran to hug their friends and family. Rory was wrapped up in hugs from Carol, Glenn, Maggie, and then Rick.   
“I was scared you didn’t make it. I couldn’t see you in all the chaos,” Rick said, checking over Rory to make sure she wasn’t hurt.   
“It’s okay, Daryl made sure I made it out alright,” Rick looked up to the redneck still sitting on top of the bike and nodded at him thankfully, “Where’d you find everyone?”   
“Well, Glenn and Maggie’s tail lights were zigzagging all over the road, figured he had to be Asian, driving like that.”  
Glenn laughed and raised his eyebrows, “Good one.”   
“Where’s everyone else?” Rory asked as she looked at everyone who was here. Glenn, Maggie, Beth, Hershel, Rick, Carl, Lori, T-Dog, Carol, Daryl and herself.   
“I think we’re the only ones who’ve made it so far,” Rick answered. Lori began to ask about Shane, but Rory was distracted by something she saw on top of a nearby car.  
She walked up to it and read the words painted across the windshield. SOPHIA STAY HERE WE WILL COME BACK EVERY DAY. Sophia, that was the name of the girl Rory had heard mention of earlier. Daryl hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Rory looked at the supplies on the hood of the car, it was enough to last a few days at least and Rory wondered if the girl had gone missing and the group was forced to Hershel’s farm.  
“We gotta keep moving,” Rick’s voice rang in Rory’s ears, “there’ve been walkers crawling all over here.”  
“I say head East,” T-dog said.   
“Stay off the main roads,” Daryl walked back over to his bike, “the bigger the road, the more walkers, more assholes like this one. I got him,” the man picked up his crossbow and shot an arrow clean through an approaching walker’s eye. The thing tumbled to the ground and moved no more.   
It was decided that they would continue East, just to see what they could find. The blue truck was abandoned to conserve gas and the group piled into the remaining cars. A cold breeze passed and Rory rubbed her arms as a chill crawled up her nerves. She heard the sound of car doors slamming and engines starting up; she turned to get into one of the cars with the other group members but she saw Daryl on his motorcycle, extending a hand to her. Rory blinked at him in confusion but Daryl kept his hand outstretched.   
“Come on,” he said, “other cars are leaving.” Rory looked around to see that he was right, Daryl’s motorcycle was the only vehicle left. So, Rory got on the back of his bike and shivered as the bike started down the highway and the winter wind blew through her hair. 

Hours passed and Rory managed to doze a bit on the ride until she was woken by a car horn. Daryl slowed the bike to a halt and stood up, forcing Rory to do the same. Rick stepped out of the red station wagon and jogged up to the two.   
“Run out?” Daryl asked.   
“Running on fumes.”  
“We can’t stay here,” Maggie interjected.   
“But we can’t all fit in one car,” Glenn pointed out.   
“We’ll have to make a run for some gas in the morning.” Rory began to rub the sleep out of her eyes.  
“Does that mean we have to spend the night here?” Carol wrapped her sweater tighter around her shoulders.   
“I’m freezing!” Carl complained. Rory just then realized that she was cold to the bone too. Her short sleeve shirt and thin flannel did little to block out the cold from the outside. Instinctively, she rubbed her hands together and blew into them. She hoped they’d have a fire soon.

And eventually, Rory was warming her hands in front of a fire. It hadn’t been as soon as she thought, but it happened before nightfall. The whole group was stuck in silence ever since Rick told them that they were all infected. Rory wasn’t surprised, however, someone in her group had died from a fatal stab wound and it was discovered when he reanimated at the funeral and took out a good deal of people. Rory extended her feet to be closer to the blaze. Her boots warmed which warmed her socks and in turn her feet. She sat next to Carol, who seemed to just be staring into the flames with a blank stare. Daryl returned with more firewood and piled it up in a corner. He sat down on Rory’s other side and looked at her.   
“You cold?”   
She shook her head, “No. What made you think so?”   
“You’re just shivering an awful lot is all.”   
Rory went back to gazing at the fire, “I guess I am cold then,” she blew into her hands, trying to create more warmth. She looked up at Daryl and saw that he was contemplating something in his head when Carol spoke. Her voice was in a whisper so low that Rory could barely discern the words, she was too tired to. That’s when she realized that she had been awake for almost 32 hours and had eaten very little. She could feel the exhaustion weighing down on her shoulders. So she lay down in the leaves by the fire, letting the warmth sink into her face and clothing, and drifted off, knowing that the people around her could handle whatever the world had to throw at them.


	6. Steps Forward

When Rory’s eyes fluttered open she was greeted with the rays of the early afternoon sun, and an unfamiliar warmth on her shoulders. She sat up slowly and yawned, looking blearily around the camp. Instantly she was filled with panic, the only people around her were T-dog, Lori, Carol, Beth, and Carl.

“Where is everyone?”

“Out on a run,” Lori explained, “They left a few hours ago to go find gas and some other essentials for the road.”

Rory leaned over the smoldering fire and blew on it gently; the embers flared, “We’re going on the road again?”

“There’s nowhere else to go,” Carol said sadly. Rory frowned at the fire and felt a small breeze disturb the weight on her shoulders. Puzzled, Rory took it off and held it in front of her. It was a black leather jacket. Strange, she didn’t own any… Rory saw the angel wings on the back and knew all too well who this jacket belonged to. She heard a quiet laugh from Carol, “He couldn’t stand how much you were shivering in your sleep.”

“But won’t Daryl get cold?”

Carol raised her eyebrows playfully, “Maybe, but you know him. He would never admit it.”

Rory smiled and slipped Daryl’s leather vest over her shoulders, it was certainly much too large for her, but it was comfortable. She warmed her hands in the flickering fire and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The grey morning light made everything look dull and hazy, but the light from the fire comforted her. Within the next hour, the rest of the group returned with gas and some supplies. Rory helped sort through them with Carl and Lori as the others loaded up the cars with fuel. When everything was locked and loaded, Rick motioned for the group to move out and Rory instinctively got on Daryl’s motorcycle, wrapping her arms around him. The man twitched in surprise and looked back at the little girl. He seemed to think for a moment before shaking his head and starting the engine, and then they were back on the road again.

Life on the road was difficult, Rory discovered, and much more so with a large group. She’d never been on the run except for when she was by herself and only had to worry about food, water, and shelter for one person, not almost a dozen. Food was constantly in short supply and Rory became used to the feeling or real hunger. Everything seemed to be teetering on the brink, they were always almost out of gas and they never stayed in the same place for very long. It was like the walkers were following the sounds of their engines in the distance. The weeks passed, and the weather became colder and colder. Camping outside with the tents they had discovered was becoming less and less logical, as an actual shelter was preferred, and was easy to come by. One of these shelters was a large green house with a white picket fence, half of which was laying on the overgrown grass. It was getting to the end of November and while this place was far from perfect, it was better than anything the group had seen so far. Only a few of the windows were shattered but all of them on the second floor seemed to be intact.

The vehicles pulled to a stop in front of it and Rory got off the back of Daryl’s motorcycle, pulling her new denim jacket tighter around her shoulders. That spot had become like her home. It was the place Rory spent the most time. She liked the way the wind felt whipping through her light hair and the cold wind on her face, it helped her feel… alive. Daryl followed her shortly after and slung his crossbow across his back.

“This look good to you?” He asked, staring up at the house.

“It’s as good as any,” Rick said. He motioned for Glenn and Maggie to follow him and Daryl inside the house and scope it out for walkers. It normally only took a few minutes so Rory walked back to wait by the cars with the rest of the group.  

“How long do you think we’ll stay?” she asked Carl. The boy looked at her. He still wore his father’s hat but he had had a growth spurt in the past weeks now stood at eye level with Rory, who had previously been the taller of the pair.

“Not sure,” he brushed his growing hair out of his eyes, “I just hope it’s for more than one night.”

Rory nodded, “Me too.”

Rick came out into the front lawn and motioned for the group to come inside. They eagerly walked into the front of the house and dropped their backpacks by the door. Rory walked further into the house, through the kitchen and into the living room, where she rolled her eyes at Daryl already sprawled out and asleep on the red L-shaped couch. He had started a fire in what used to be a gas fireplace but the glass and artificial logs had been taken out and replaced with real wood. They now cast a soft light and jagged shadows across the room. Rick appeared again and put his backpack on the kitchen counter.

“There’re three bedrooms upstairs, two full and a king. As well as a fold out bed in the basement and the couch on this floor so we should be set. Carl, Lori and I will take the big one upstairs, Beth and Carol can take the other, and Glenn and Maggie can take the last. T-Dog and Hershel can room in the basement. Rory,” he looked at the little girl, “We can put you with Beth and Carol if you like.”

Rory shook her head, “I wouldn’t want to try and fit three people into a bed that won’t fit. The couch down here is plenty big. I’ll be fine.” Rick looked at her for a beat before facing the rest of the group.

“We’ll look through the cabinets before we go to bed, I’ll take first watch. Get some rest, everyone.”

The group searched through the kitchen and found a good amount of food, mostly stale cereal and instant noodles, but it was certainly better than nothing. Rick and T-Dog barred the door and nailed wood over the ground floor windows before everyone bid their goodnights and went to their rooms. Rory walked over to a large floor to ceiling glass door which connected the living room to the backyard. She peered through a gap in the planks and looked out at the darkness. She stared for a long time, and she thought she even saw something move before she shook her head and took up the free space on the couch near Daryl, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

*    *    *

Rory was grateful even after the first 48 hours that they had managed to stay in the same place. There were a few walkers here and there but they were far apart and rarely wandered near the house. The neighboring houses were proving to be useful in terms of keeping supplies and food levels high enough so that everyone could go to sleep warm and full of whatever they had found that day. A few days after they had settled in, Rory and Carl were playing cards by the front door, waiting for the majority of the group to return back from a supply run.

“Got any sevens?” Carl asked and Rory shook her head. He gave her a skeptical look, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, go fish.” Rory smiled as Carl grumbled and took another card from the top of the deck sitting in between them. The girl looked down at her own cards, biting her lip in thought, “Do you have any-” she stopped and set down her cards, “did you hear that?” It hadn’t been a loud sound, only the smallest of noises, a creaking of wood. Carl, who was busy trying to sneak a peek at Rory’s cards, looked up when the sound happen again.

“I heard that one.”

“You think it’s the group?” Rory looked at Carl and the boy shrugged. Rory pushed herself to her feet, “Come on.” she beckoned and the boy followed her as they crept silently through the house to one of the large picture windows covered with boards. Rory pressed her back up against the wall and motioned for Carl to do the same. She heard the sound again and Carl spoke.

“Dad?” his voice went unanswered, and there was only more creaking noises.

Rory motioned that she was going to look out and Carl nodded. Rory moved quickly, she spun around and peered through the gap in the wooden boards. She saw nothing except the empty backyard with a few rotting corpses the group had cleared out when they arrived. She squinted her eyes but saw nothing. Her knuckles were white as they gripped the edge of the board. She turned back to Carl, “There’s nothing out-” Rory was cut off as a rotting hand plunged through the glass and gripped Rory around the throat. The girl screamed and clawed desperately at the hand. Carl stepped back, his eyes were wide. The walker’s grip was iron and cold and it pulled against her skin. She screamed again and tried to pull away, but her cries were attracting more of the monsters. There was a sound of shattering glass as more of the creatures broke the rest of the glass door and reached for Rory. Carl was frozen in fear and Rory fumbled desperately to escape, but the grimy hands held her back.

“Carl,” she managed to choke out, the walker’s grip was tightening around her neck and her breaths were labored. Rory pointed a shaking hand towards Carl’s gun and the boy nodded. He reached into his pocket and took the gun. He unclicked the safety and held it up. Rory scrunch her eyes shut and tried to lean as far away from the walkers as possible so she wouldn’t be shot instead of them. The sound of the gunshot wasn’t the next thing she heard. Instead, there was the splintering of wood and the sound of something whizzing through the air. Rory felt the pressure on her neck disappear and she coughed and choked on air. The ear-splitting sounds of three gunshots rang in Rory’s ears and one by one she felt the walkers who had a hold on her be knocked back. Once the last of them had been shot and killed, Rory fell forward to her knees and coughed heavily. Rick and the rest of the group rushed forward to see if she and Carl were alright.

Rick knelt before his son, “You okay?” Carl nodded wordlessly. Rory inhaled shakily, only to resume her coughing. Her hands gently touched her throat, and her eyes widened as she felt the scratch. A warm hand began to rub her back.

“How about you, Rory? Are you hurt?” Rory turned around to look at Carol and gaped. She tried to speak but her voice sounded scratchy and it stung her throat. So instead Rory mouthed the words, _I think so_.

“You gotta check if she’s bit,” Daryl said, pulling his arrow from a walker’s skull, “She had four of them on her, better safe than sorry,” Daryl wiped the walker brains off of the tip of his arrow before walking over to Rory and Carol. Carol was giving her a quick check. Asking if it hurt anywhere and inspecting her for tiny cuts. She had yet to reach Rory’s neck. The girl felt her already strangled breath get caught in her throat. That was where it hurt, where the walker’s rotten fingers had torn at her skin. Daryl slung his bow over his shoulder and paused as he surveyed Rory. She looked at the floor and tried to get her hair to cover the scratches on her neck. But it was too late, “Hold up,” Daryl said, gently ushering Carol out of the way so he could get a better look at Rory. He knelt down and looked at her, a certain skepticism in his face. Rory stared at him blankly and Daryl raised an eyebrow. He grabbed her chin and tilted her head up. Rory found herself staring up at the cracked ceiling. She tried to fidget but Daryl’s grip was too strong. She felt his eyes on the scratches and his warm fingertips as he inspected one of them.

“Is this new?” Rory said nothing, “Is it?” Daryl let go of Rory’s chin and the young girl looked at him. Into the crystal clear eyes. Rory knew that she couldn’t lie, he would be able to tell… somehow. She nodded.

“Well, you’re lucky,” Daryl stood up and adjusted his crossbow, “Damn thing didn’t break the skin. You’ll be fine, for now.”

 

“What were you two doing?” Rick’s voice was stern and commanding. Once everyone had calmed down and it was established that there weren’t any more walkers in the general area. Rick was angry, very angry. Rory and Carl were both silent, “I asked you a question,” Rick said, looking at Carl this time. It had been discovered that it hurt Rory’s throat to speak. And even though Carol said she should be better in a few days, it was still an annoyance to Rory that she couldn’t voice her opinion.

“We weren’t doing anything,” Carl said finally, “They just attacked us.” He was staring at the floor. Whether he felt shame for not being able to have shot the walkers, or just for walking into an obviously dangerous situation Rory didn’t know.

Rick ran a hand over his tired face, “But you two were standing by the window?” Rory nodded and Rick let out a long sigh, “From now on there’s got to be someone around you two to keep you safe. No more home alone business until you can handle yourselves.”

“We can handle ourselves,” Carl protested, but Lori sent him a warning look and the boy quieted down.

“Why waste the time?” Daryl said from a chair across the room. Everyone turned to look at him, “Teach ‘em how to shoot. Why not?”

Rick looked at Daryl, cold gaze unbreaking, “Because they’re kids,” Daryl shook his head slightly and Rick took a step closer, “Don’t be difficult about this, Daryl.”  
“I’m not being difficult, a little girl who was able to survive on her own for that long’s gotta be worth something. Just give her a damn gun. Carl’s already got one: why shouldn’t she?” Rick seemed to grind his teeth and he didn’t take his eyes off of Daryl.

“He’s right you know,” Glenn said, stepping in, “We don’t have time to wait for them to grow up.”

“Something like this could happen again,” Lori stepped forward, putting a hand on Rick’s shoulder, “We can’t risk that.”

Rick looked at his wife and then back to Rory and Carl sitting timidly on the couch. He swallowed with some effort, and let out a breath.

“Fine, you two want to learn to shoot. Be my guest.”


End file.
